


Trust

by pylades



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4660362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pylades/pseuds/pylades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katherine should say no. She shouldn’t encourage his ridiculous flirtation, nor would it be at all proper to go to dinner with a man that she barely knew. And yet, she was considering it. She truly was … considering it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Canon diversion time! Katherine's decision to trust Jack changes things ... inspired by this post (http://askthekellys.tumblr.com/post/126511538190/do-either-of-you-have-any-major-regrets-what-are)

She's absolutely not waiting for him.

No, she's just ... eager to start writing, to prepare for tomorrow. She pulls her notebook and pencil out, jotting quick notes while watching the newsboys exit together.

He leaves the restaurant and she freezes in place, wondering why she decided to wait, wondering why she doesn’t walk away, wondering why she’s even having this inner dialogue even as he walks toward her.

And the first thing that she can think of is to hold her notebook and pencil up like shield and sword, awkwardly sliding into her serious reporter voice.

“So ... uh ... what’s your story? Are you selling newspapers to work your way through art school?”

He snorts, but not in a cruel, mocking way, dismissing her suggestion. “Art school? Are you kiddin’ me?”

Katherine recognizes that dismissal for what it is. Self deprecation. She’s heard it in her own voice enough times, after all.

“You’re talented,” she says smoothly, encouragingly (it’s her job to keep the conversation flowing, to make him answer her questions, and yet ... she’s being honest He’s talented.),”You could be illustrating the papers instead of selling them.”

He shrugs and her keen reporter’s eyes notes the way his shoulders roll lazily under the threadbare shirt. “Maybe that ain’t what I want.”

“So tell me what you do want, Mr. Kelly.” Katherine waggles her pencil at him. He reaches across the space between them to take the pencil and rolls it thoughtfully in his fingers.

“Can’t you see it in my eyes?”

She snatches her pencil back and tucks it away, stepping back from him. It’s not fear (she can take care of herself) that guides her steps, but an unsteady feeling and a desperation to right herself. He makes her feel like the ground beneath her is tilted and she doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

Katherine attempts a different tactic. “Have you always been their leader?”

“I ain’t no leader. Davey, now, he’s the brains of this operation. I’m just the mouth.” and that mouth twists into a smirk before he asks: “My turn t’ask a few questions. You got a name or should I stick with lady reporter?” He holds out one hand, a pretend notebook, and uses his finger as a pencil. Katherine almost laughs at his serious expression. If his slouched cap were a bowler, he’d look just like the arrogant prat who covered the political beat at the Sun.

“It’s Katherine ... uh ... Plumber. Katherine Plumber.”

“You sound like you ain’t sure.”

“It’s my by-line,” she says crisply (surely). “Katherine Plumber.”

Katherine tells herself that her surname isn’t any of his business, that she owes him nothing, but when she thinks about tomorrow and his willingness to work with her, she feels a stab of guilt deep in her gut. 

She clears her throat. “So, Mr. Kelly, what are you hoping will happen tomorrow?”

“Jack.” he tells her.

“Jack?”

“S’my name, Plumber.” he reminds her. “Jack Kelly. Katherine ... Plumber.”

“All right, Jack. What are you hoping will happen?”

His smirk falters and he reaches up to tug his cap off. “We stopped carryin’ the papes today, but the wagons still delivered ‘em throughout the city. Tomorrow we stop the wagons.”

“Are you scared?” she asks softly, her pencil still.

“Do I look scared?” He does, a little bit. He looks terribly young, especially after running his fingers nervously through his hair. Jack returns his cap and grins a little when she doesn’t respond. “Jes’ ... ask me again tomorrow.”

She returns his grin. “Good answer. See you in the morning, Mister Kelly.”

“Where ya goin, Plumber? It ain’t even suppertime. How bout a bite?”

Katherine should say no. She shouldn’t encourage his ridiculous flirtation, nor would it be at all proper to go to dinner with a man that she barely knew. And yet, she was considering it. She truly was ... considering it.

So she clearly surprises not only herself, but Jack as well with her answer. “I suppose there’d be no harm in it.”

She’s been wrong before, but somehow Katherine feels like she isn’t at this moment.


End file.
